Evening
by justok
Summary: Sulu appreciates Chekov being competent, the captain doesn't disagree but thinks there are more interesting things to think about. Uhura tries to do the right thing, and Chekov appreciates it all. One evening on the Enterprise from three points of view. This is a character study, I think that should be a genre option.
1. Chapter 1

Hikaru Sulu followed Captain Kirk into the turbolift. As soon as the doors closed the captain turned to the lieutenant and said, "That never happens again."

Hikaru nodded and said, "You know he had all the alarms turned off? He said he doesn't need them and they go off too much. They go off too much! We are lucky Mr. Spock was alert. If all they needed to do was ask the computer to draw a map anyone could be a navigator on a starship."

"What if that asteroid had been going faster?" Kirk said.

"What if we had been? Chekov uses the computer's course as a starting point. He would never send me something without checking it for potential problems. I can understand that not everyone can consider other options in their head, but minimally they are supposed to check viability of the course before they send it to the helm. And they are supposed to be watching the scanners. Chekov does a better job when he's working from the science station than that guy does sitting right next to me."

"He can't be on my bridge again." Kirk said firmly.

"Not that it matters, but I support your decision." Sulu said.

"It matters a little bit, maybe." Kirk laughed. "Who's up next?"

Sulu said thoughtfully, "I'm not certain. I'll have to check and get back to you. We are going to have to get more navigators at some point."

"I know, I know. I keep requesting, but they lost most of the experienced ones, and every ship they send out has to have several, and there aren't all that many that go into it. You have to be pretty smart to pass the classes, but we both know all the really smart people want to pilot, so there just aren't that many available." Kirk said.

Sulu shook his head, "I am going to tell Chekov you said that."

"Don't," said Kirk, "because he will immediately switch to pilot, and then you will have even less qualified people to draw from."

"Good point." Sulu laughed. He grew more serious and said, "You know Lieutenant x'Tan has lots of experience right? He worked a few years on the Endeavour before he transferred. He was Pike's beta shift navigator. He'd have been probably been alpha if Pav hadn't been available. He is technically our number three guy. What does that say about whoever is number five? I'm scared to meet them."

"That is disturbing." Kirk said. "I am still going to see that he asks for a transfer but if he's replaced with someone worse we're all screwed. When Chekov gets upright he's got to draw up some sort of schedule for competency evaluations."

"They already do them every six months. It's regulation so it's mandatory. x'Tan always passes, and Chekov always bitches that he shouldn't have. They kind of hate each other. When x'Tan works gamma shift Chekov doesn't even wait for him to leave the bridge before he calibrates every piece of machinery the guy touched."

The captain grinned, he loved mischief. He said, "Seriously! I never noticed. I can't see the galaxy's happiest ensign being mean to the gamma shift."

Sulu smiled, and said, "Believe me, he's provoked. At our division meetings x'Tan acts like Pav is a cute little performing puppy. And then too he implies to everyone on board that it is some sort of amusing accident that Pav got the alpha position. Chekov has always said the guy was incompetent, from the first time they worked together, but until today I always assumed it was really x'Tan he didn't like. I mean, x'Tan hides it well; I didn't even notice how lazy he was the first couple shifts he filled in. It wasn't till you were off the bridge and he relaxed that he almost got us all killed."

"Why is he still on my ship?"

"He's gamma relief navigator. There's not much lower you can go and still be considered assigned to navigation. It wasn't a popular posting by the way. The way x'Tan tells it, Pav is jealous of his rank and experience and poisons both of us against him."

"He nearly directed my ship into the side of an asteroid; that poisoned my attitude." Kirk said firmly. "I don't care how short we are, I don't care what anyone says. He's not coming back. Look at the schedule, pick someone to fill in and get back to me. Just remember Darwin can't work all the time."

Hikaru sighed and asked, "How long till we can have Chekov back?"

"Bones says at least another week."

"Another week! That's long."

"It's probably realistic though. I saw him when I went down to sick bay today, he looks bad. They moved him out of isolation, but then his fever went up again. Bones is hanging over him like some kind of concerned blue vulture." Kirk smiled and added, "I picked a bad time for a visit. Bones was right in the middle of one of his healthy lifestyle motivational speeches. Chekov was lying in bed clearly not listening. Had his polite face plastered on but was staring at the door like he was figuring out the number of steps required to escape. I started to laugh and Bones threw me out. End of visit."

Sulu said, "Polite face?"

The captain replied, "I know you've seen it. Whenever anyone who outranks him says something he thinks is dumb, he gets this very respectful look. He puts on a pleasant little smile and kind of arranges his face to say, 'Wow, I am completely interested,' but if you look closely his eyes are saying 'You are an idiot.' You know the one I mean?"

Hikaru started to laugh too. "I know exactly the look you are talking about. Polite face is a good name for it. I am going to use that." They rode a few seconds in silence

Hikaru said thoughtfully, "He needs to get better. He's been gone so long I almost miss him talking about physics."

The captain snorted, "Yeah, almost."

Sulu shrugged and said, "Okay, so maybe not the physics, but you've got to miss the enthusiasm."

The captain nodded and said, "And there's no one to tease. I love the way he believes everything I say. It's boring up there with all you mature adults. Mostly though, I miss how he doesn't almost run the ship into asteroids."

"I miss that too." Sulu said.

The captain stretched and then said, "How totally Chekov is it to have finally gotten, what was probably a tiny, tiny bit of physical affection and then catch the flu from it?"

Sulu nodded, "It's Chekhovian both with and without the h."

"What?" asked Kirk.

"Never mind," Sulu said, but then added, "Remember what McCoy said he has?"

"Some flu he managed to pick up at the Ertruckan embassy." The captain said with a smirk.

Sulu shook his head, "He said he had 'Influenza from an Ertruckan virus, generally spread through physical contact, usually intimate or prolonged in nature.' I'm just saying, prolonged doesn't sound so tiny."

"The boy has always been sensitive. I am guessing he probably requires less exposure than the average patient. What did he tell you that morning?"

"Nothing, he showed up about two minutes before we were due for breakfast, slipped in the room, grabbed his pack and looked at me like he'd been ready for hours. Didn't say anything. The security guys tried to drill him about where he'd been, but Pav just shrugged and," Sulu laughed and said, "put on his polite face."

Captain Kirk laughed too and then asked, "So which daughter was it anyway?"

"Again, he didn't tell me, so I'm not sure, but I think probably the angsty dark one. She was closer to his age and they spent most of the dinner staring at each other so I assume it was her."

"I'd have gone for the blonde."

"I know you would have, but she was way too confident for him. Plus he's always kind of drawn to the sensitive artistic type. I don't know why. It seems to me that if you're going to almost die from the flu you should have at least tried to catch it from some easy going, pleasant person."

"I wonder if he thinks it was worth it."

"That you would have to ask him yourself, captain."

"Maybe I will." Kirk said thoughtfully. Hikaru looked at him doubtfully, hoping he wasn't seriously planning to talk to shy Pav about sex. With Captain Kirk it was difficult to know.

"I think we can agree, he needs to think before he acts." the captain said sagely, then he added, "You'll get back to me about what to do about navigation?"

Hikaru nodded. He said, "By the end of beta shift. First I'm going to get something to eat; I missed lunch keeping an eye on x'Tan. Do you want something?" The doors of the lift opened. Scents from the mess drifted in.

Kirk shook his head and said regretfully, "Scotty's checking to see how much damage throwing on the theoretical brakes at warp three did. I have to go let him tell me all about it."

"I am very sorry sir." Sulu said.

"It's part of the glories of command." Kirk replied.

Hikaru stepped out of the lift and started down the hall. Beta shift was well underway, and the mess was nearly deserted. He picked out a bowl of chili, and then took a seat at a table by himself. He opened his PADD, and began checking to see how removing x'Tan was going to mess with the schedule. It would be complicated; with Pav sick and x'Tan relieved of duty they only had three navigators. They would have to alternate eight hour shifts. Most of the decisions were made, and consequently most of the work was done, on alpha shift. So ordinarily your best people worked then, but he hated to leave a new grad like Gengen unsupervised all night.

He tried a few configurations and then gave up and closed the PADD. He reran the morning's events through his mind, wondered again if replacing x'Tan was going to help or hurt the situation. He considered asking Dr. McCoy to let Chekov work half shifts, or do some remote supervision, but decided against it. The kid was not on vacation; the doctor would clear him when he could. If provoked McCoy might extend his bed rest. He remembered the captain talking about the polite face and laughed. It was the perfect description.

He sat for a few minutes and thought about Pavel Chekov. The captain was right, near death asteroid experience aside; work was much more boring when he wasn't at the helm. Hikaru frowned, it seemed difficult to believe now, but he hadn't always liked Chekov. He hadn't actively disliked him, and they had always worked well together, but Chekov had the odd habit of talking too much when answering a question and too little when just talking. His reserve could come off as arrogance. At first, Hikaru hadn't thought Chekov was interesting. It had taken a while to understand that the ensign was shy, and longer to appreciate how entertaining he was. Hikaru leaned back in his chair and tried to remember when he had first realized that Pav would be a worthwhile friend.

Not at the academy, they had been in several of the same classes, but not in the same social circles. He remembered hearing Pav speak exactly once. He had corrected a teaching assistant, right in the middle of an advanced astrophysics class. Hikaru smiled remembering the look on the TA's face when Pav's piping little voice had informed him that the page long proof he had just presented had nothing to do with the question he had assigned the class. The TA replied that he had copied the answer directly from the text. He had asked Pav how he could think he understood the subject better than the authors of the text book. Pav had said, 'Because they are wrong.' At which point the TA had explained in the way only a Tellarite could, how inappropriate it was to challenge a teacher. The noise had brought one of the professors to the room. She had told the TA the mistake had been found earlier, to check his mail more frequently, and not to yell at the students. Most of the students had laughed, the TA had not. He sent Pav a look that had made Hikaru happy not to be the cadet.

No, he hadn't liked him until later. It was after Nero, he thought, maybe a few months into their first mission. He had been in the mess right at the height of the lunch rush. He had gotten his food and had stood talking to Kevin and Nyota while they waited for a table. Chekov had stumbled by, holding a full tray. Some friendly reflex had made Hikaru ask the navigator to join them. Chekov had looked surprised and a little suspicious, but had nodded and stopped. He had seemed to regret his decision almost immediately though, had stood stiffly behind them, picking at his fries and not speaking, staring at his tray while the lieutenants discussed an upcoming round of scheduled promotions.

The promotions had been a big deal, because of Nero there were lots of openings and people had thought their careers could be made based on the decisions. Kevin had tried to involve Chekov in the conversation by asking what he thought about them. Chekov hadn't responded. Kevin had repeated the question; the ensign had looked at him uncertainly, but still hadn't answered. Hikaru had thought Chekov was just taking a while to weigh different responses, but Kevin had apparently decided Chekov hadn't understood the question. He had moved to stand right in front of the ensign. Speaking very slowly, he had asked Chekov again if he had any thoughts about who would make lieutenant commander. Chekov had looked at Kevin for several seconds, and then said "No sir I do not." in the same slow careful tone Kevin had used. Hikaru and Nyota had laughed, but Kevin had been a little angry, uncertain if he had been insulted. But Kevin was basically good natured. He had decided Chekov just wasn't good with Standard and had continued to try to include him, smiling and over enunciating every time he spoke. The ensign had watched him skeptically, and had barely answered.

Just when the prospect of spending his lunch dragging conversation out of the silent navigator had been beginning to make Hikaru regret including him, Nyota had spotted a group of security officers vacating their table. She had sprinted over to grab it. Hikaru and Kevin had followed, dodging through the security team as they rushed to the seats. Chekov had listlessly brought up the rear. One of the officers had been telling a story, gesturing wildly. His arm had caught Chekov's tray and flipped it into the ensign's chest. His drink had splattered all over him, and then had slid to the ground. The man had kept walking, calling back a vague apology. Chekov had set his tray on the table and wandered off without saying a word.

A robot had arrived quickly to sop up the mess. The spill had been large enough that it overwhelmed the suction openings and the machine had begun to make some odd noises. The lunch room maintenance man had come over to check it. He had glared at Hikaru and his friends as if they had purposely done something wrong, muttering that he wasn't there to clean up after them.

Kevin's attempt to explain they weren't responsible for the accident had only seemed to intensify the man's anger. Hikaru hadn't been surprised; in his experience, that guy had always been mad. He had been kind of famous on the ship for to treating everyone, senior officer to recent enlisted, with contempt. Most of the crew had dreaded interacting with him. The man had stood by their table and continued to complain, carrying on like the crew came to the mess simply to create work for him. Hikaru hadn't even bothered to try talking; he had ignored him and eaten his lunch.

Chekov had reappeared, blotting at his uniform with an enormous pile of napkins. The maintenance man had started in on him for wasting supplies. Chekov had shrugged and stood watching the robot sucking at the puddle. After several seconds, and without any kind of lead in, Chekov had looked up and asked the maintenance man if he had gone to some concert in San Francisco. The man had looked surprised, but had said that he had been there. The two of them had then launched into a discussion about some band Hikaru had never heard of. They had seemed to enjoy it. Hikaru thought the navigator had never been so animated off the bridge, and although he had still sounded angry, it was easily the closest to civil he had ever heard the custodian be.

They had talked music until the lunch break ended. Having forgotten to eat, Chekov had given his burger to the maintenance man and taken his fries with him as they walked to the turbolift. They had passed a group of engineers going the opposite way, toward the mess; a young woman had turned and asked Chekov if he was going to some party Thursday. Chekov had responded with his standard noncommittal shrug. The young woman had smiled at him and said, "I got that vid."

Chekov had hopped into the crowded lift. Just as the doors closed he had replied, "Now you make me want to go."

In the turbolift Nyota had looked at Chekov critically. Finally she had cleared her throat and said kindly, "You know you're an officer right?" Chekov had looked at her uncertainly. She had added, "There are reasons for all the rules about fraternization. You have to be really careful."

Chekov had said quietly, "Thank you ma'am, I'll remember." Nyota had looked at him expectantly, but he hadn't said anything more, just looked ahead and smiled politely. As more crew members had squeezed in she had gotten distracted and eventually involved in a new round of speculation about the promotions.

It had been lunch time. The lift had been crowded with people from several divisions. The upcoming promotions had been on everyone's mind. People had grouped tightly around the door talking about them, and the noise had grown much louder. As people left the lift and others had entered, they had easily joined the discussion.

Chekov had slipped to the back of the lift and finished his fries. Hikaru had watched him, and thought how strange it was that their navigator knew the musical tastes of the lunch room maintenance bully. Eventually it had occurred to him that he had no reason to be surprised. Despite having sat next to the kid eight hours a day for months, he really knew almost nothing about him.

Chekov had always been self-confident in his work, and he had not had trouble volunteering his ideas. But he had never chatted. He had seemed indifferent to conversations around him, with one exception. When Captain Kirk told a story Chekov froze, had listened so intently that sometimes his mouth hung open. People had remarked upon it. Kirk had loved it of course. Hikaru had once heard him direct the doctor to watch for it. Hikaru had thought that such obvious admiration had to be faked, but gradually he had become less sure. In the months since Kirk had saved the universe, Hikaru had seen many people fawning for his attention. The ensign had been almost the opposite, he had often seemed uncomfortable when Kirk asked him anything not work related.

While Hikaru had been thinking, Chekov had deliberately turned to his left. Hikaru had wondered why, but then realized the mirrored panels embedded in the walls allowed Chekov to see the entire lift without having to look directly at anyone. He had watched the happy group at the front for a while, grimaced and had then stared skeptically at his own reflection for a few seconds. He frowned and then began to make faces at himself. Hikaru had continued to watch; amused because it was such a teenager thing to do and because he had never before seen the serious little ensign play.

Neither of them had paid any attention to the ship's chief medical officer, also standing in the back of the lift. When the turbolift doors had opened in sick bay the doctor had turned to the young man and said, "You should make more of an effort to join in." and then had pushed his way to the front, through the crowd and out of the lift. Right before exiting he had turned back and added, "And French fries aren't food."

Chekov had smiled politely while McCoy spoke, but as soon as the older man left he had dropped the smile and stared petulantly after the doctor. Hikaru had found the transformation entertaining and so had continued to watch. If he hadn't been looking so closely he wouldn't have noticed when Chekov turned to the mirror, scowled crankily and said in a lecturing tone, but very, very quietly, "You need to learn to be interested in theoretical promotions or I have no choice but to hypo you into friendships." Despite his accent, the imitation of the ship's doctor had been excellent. It had been so unexpected that Hikaru had started to laugh, loudly.

No one else in the lift had heard the comment, not even sensitive Nyota; but everyone had turned to see what was so funny. Chekov had looked at the floor and blushed fiercely. Hikaru hadn't been able to control his laughter, but had only shaken his head when Kevin had asked what the joke was.

When they finally arrived at the bridge, everyone had gone straight to their stations. The captain had asked if anything interesting had happened at lunch. Hikaru had said, "Nothing at all, sir." Chekov, silent and still red, had given Hikaru a very grateful look.

The remainder of the shift had passed slowly. They had worked together as perfectly as they always did, but Chekov had been tense and silent. At one point Doctor McCoy had come onto the bridge to visit with the captain. Chekov had leaned over his console and rested his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead like it hurt.

When the doctor had gone on his way, Hikaru had said quietly, "You can relax. He's gone." Chekov hadn't acknowledged him, except to sit up straighter in his chair. He hadn't said anything else for hours. He had answered Mr. Spock with one or two syllables. Even several attempts by the captain had failed to provoke one of his long, complicated, and so excited explanations. It had been a boring shift.

Towards the end of the day, the captain had left the bridge, off on one of his frequent visits to engineering. Mr. Spock had gone over to consult with Officer 0718. Hikaru had waited until were deep in conversation before turning to the navigator and saying quietly, "Stop worrying, it's alright."

Chekov had sighed and said, "I am so stupid."

Hikaru had laughed and said, "That's not what I hear." Chekov had glanced at Hikaru, giving him a brief polite smile, but his eyes had seemed uninvolved, maybe even sad. It had suddenly occurred to Hikaru that his comment might have sounded condescending. He had felt badly and so had tried again, saying, "It was a good imitation. I thought you were funny."

Chekov had frowned. "No, not funny, I was," he had searched for the right word, "sulking? I shouldn't act like that."

"It wasn't that big of a deal," Hikaru had assured him. "Do you think you're the only one who makes fun of Doctor McCoy? Everyone does. He's an easy target. You don't have to be perfect."

Chekov had turned to look at him then, and had said very seriously, "Yes I do." Hikaru had smiled, thinking he had been teasing. Chekov had shook his head, and then gestured to the rest of the bridge. "If any of you make a mistake, it is because beings sometimes make mistakes. You will do better next time. If I make a mistake it is because I am too young for this. I have to be careful all the time, or I won't get to stay." He had looked down at his board, reached out to make an adjustment, and hadn't said any more.

Hikaru had thought for a few seconds, wondering how to respond. Finally he had said, "I guess I never thought of it that way."

"I think of that all the time." Chekov hadn't looked up from the board and had spoken softly, almost to himself.

Hikaru had sat quietly, thinking. Eventually he had looked over at the navigator and said, "You know what is really funny?" Chekov had looked up and shook his head uncertainly. Hikaru had continued, "Dr. McCoy stood at the front of the turbolift and yelled, 'And French fries aren't food.' You and I were the only ones there that had any idea what he was talking about. Everyone else thought he had just suddenly started screaming health advice."

Chekov had smiled shyly. "And they said nothing, because everyone is used to him saying strange things at any time." He had added with some admiration, "He is like no one else."

"He's absolutely the king of non sequitur." Hikaru had said.

"Non sequitur." Chekov had repeated softly.

"Oh, that means, uh," Hikaru had started, trying to think of a way to explain it simply.

"It does not follow?" asked Chekov.

Hikaru had nodded, impressed.

Chekov had said, "I know that phrase, it is almost the same in French, I just never heard it pronounced in Standard before. Actually it is almost the same in Russian too, but the pronunciation is so different you would not know what I was saying." He had paused, and then added, "I do not always allow the correct pronunciation to worry me much."

Hikaru had laughed. "But you've only spoken Standard, what, three years? Your vocabulary is pretty amazing."

"Thank you, I think." Chekov had said.

Hikaru had waited a few minutes before turning to Chekov and saying, "Okay, I have one more question." Chekov had nodded, but his eyes had again looked wary. Hikaru had said, "Don't worry; I just want to know how you knew the maintenance man in the mess liked that band?"

"Mr. Jensen?" Chekov had asked, clearly surprised. Sulu had simply nodded; he hadn't wanted to admit not knowing the man's name. "He has their art tattooed on his arm. When I saw the stickers on the robot I felt certain he had added them."

"I didn't notice any stickers. And how do you know he has a tattoo?" Hikaru had asked.

Chekov had answered, "He has several. One morning when I came for breakfast a replicator's temperature control had failed overnight. I helped him to fix it. There was melted food base everywhere; after we cleaned it he needed to change his uniform. They keep extras in their lockers behind the work station. He was uncomfortable, and he pulled his shirt off before he was behind the wall. I saw the tattoos then."

Chekov had paused and then said quickly, "I'm sorry, I did not think. We shouldn't have discussed in front of you things that you do not enjoy. I'm sorry. It was kind of you to ask me to join you, and then I was rude. I just wanted to distract him. He gets angry easily. He has a difficult job."

Sulu shook his head, "Don't worry about it, you weren't rude. And I was happy to have you join us. We will have to do it again. Maybe next time there will be less drama."

They had attended to their work quietly for a few minutes. Then Chekov had leaned over and whispered, "Mr. Sulu?" Hikaru had looked over, and the younger man had said quietly, sounding both excited and uncertain. "Do you want to know who else has a band tattoo?"

"Who?" Hikaru had asked.

"Lieutenant Commander Bowden."

"She does not." Hikaru had been delighted. Bowden was the relief science officer and a very dignified older woman. He had tried to picture her in a tattoo parlor. He hadn't been able to do it.

"Yes, she does."

"Where is it?"

Chekov had whispered, "On her thigh, on her left leg; I think that that may be why she wears her skirts longer, but you can still see it, especially when she is seated. It is big. Have you heard of Marteau? They are an old band; they were part of the chaos scene. My uncles loved their music. One has the same tattoo, on his chest though. That is how I recognized it."

"This I have got to see." Hikaru had said.

"It is a little hard the first time, but after you do, it is hard not to see it. Now when she talks to me I have to work very hard to not look at it." Hikaru had started to laugh, imagining the ensign avoiding Miss Bowden's legs. Chekov had laughed too, but guiltily.

Hikaru had not been able to stop thinking about the lieutenant commander's tattoo. He had checked to be sure they weren't being overheard and then said, "I can't wait. I am going to have to see it today. She is scheduled next shift; I am staying and going to try to get a look at it. Why don't you hang out here with me in case I need backup? I may laugh so hard I need rescued."

Chekov had nodded seriously, thought a few minutes and then whispered the details of a plan for Sulu to see the lieutenant commander's leg. Hikaru had been impressed by how quickly he thought.

They waited until nearly the end of their shift. Chekov had created a problem, and asked Mr. Sulu if he could please help him with it. When their relief arrived they had taken their work to the science center and Chekov had asked Miss Bowden to help him too. In the meantime Captain Kirk had returned. He had leaned back in his chair and hadn't seemed to be paying much attention. Hikaru had waited until Bowden and Chekov were deep in conversation, and then had dropped a stylus. He had bent down to grab it, had taken a good look at Miss Bowden's ink, and had come up grinning.

Hikaru had walked back over to his own station, trying not to laugh. He had gathered his things and had said goodbye to the beta shift officers. He had been aware of Captain Kirk watching him closely, but had tried to ignore it. As he walked toward the elevator he had paused and looked back at Chekov, who was still listening respectfully as Miss Bowden talked. Hikaru had been wondering how to free the ensign when the captain had cleared his throat.

"Mr. Chekov, Miss Bowden has her own work to do. You can't take all her time with your questions. Why don't you come with me and we'll get a coffee. I will try to help you out." Captain Kirk had sounded solicitous, like a kindly older brother.

Chekov had frozen like a bunny caught in the lettuce. Miss Bowden had said that he was no problem, and that she enjoyed helping him. But the captain had insisted, had walked over, wrapped an arm around Chekov's shoulders and had guided him and his PADD into the lift. Sulu had followed, feeling very foolish.

"Mess," The captain had said. As the turbolift began to move he had turned to Sulu and said, "Classic moves gentlemen. What were you after?"

Chekov had looked sick and scared, but Hikaru Sulu and Jim Kirk had been in the same class at the academy. Judging from his reputation at school, Sulu had decided the captain would probably be most mad that he hadn't been included. So he had answered, "I wanted to see Bowden's tattoo."

Kirk had howled. Chekov had flinched and tried unsuccessfully to slip out from under his commanding officer's arm.

Kirk had said, "Tattoo! You've got to be kidding. Bowden? Where?"

Hikaru had answered, "Left thigh. It's the singer's face from the band Marteau. He's got horns and his tongue out. It's huge."

"Oh my God, Miss Bowden was a chaos rocker. Can you imagine? Do you think she wore her hair so sensible in those days? I gotta see a picture." Kirk had been laughing so hard he had been forced to lean against the bulkhead for support. Eventually he had calmed down enough to say, "How did you hear about it?"

Hikaru had nodded at the ensign, who was staring miserably at the floor. "Chekov." he said.

"Am I in trouble?" Chekov had asked tensely, not looking up.

"Trouble? Well let's analyze this." The captain had replied. "You saw something, let's call it an anomaly, and you reported it to a superior officer. That's what you're supposed to do. So no, you're not in trouble. Your only mistake was to go to Mr. Sulu and not me. All really odd or potentially embarrassing quirks of any of the senior officers should be reported to the captain first. That's not actually a regulation by the way; I just enjoy hearing about them more than other people do."

The lift doors had opened. The captain had continued, "Here's the mess. Let's get coffee." He had walked up to a replicator, pushed a few buttons and then added, "and maybe a donut." He had pushed a few more buttons and added again, "each." He grabbed a plate and had headed to a table, still talking. Hikaru had gotten himself some tea, and had looked over at Chekov, still at the replicator and gazing wistfully at the door.

"No escaping." Hikaru had said firmly, "We did something silly, not illegal. But don't worry, he likes silly, he's not going to be mad at you. Anyway, we're in this together, so come on." Chekov had sighed, taken some apple juice, and followed Sulu.

The captain had handed out donuts and said, "Okay ensign, I am going to need a thorough report. Let's start with, how did you notice the tattoo in the first place?"

Chekov had said nervously. "I shouldn't have told about Miss Bowden. But, it is difficult to know something funny and not share it."

Kirk said, "Well, never mind that now. How did you see it? In the gym?"

Chekov shook his head. "Whenever she stands to give report to Mr. Weldon she always pulls her skirt down. Not for everyone, just him. I wondered why, so I watched closely, and one day I saw it. Just the edge, but I knew what it was. I didn't see the whole thing for months, until she was watching a vid in the recreational lounge and wasn't thinking about it. "

"So you've known about this for a while, and never said anything?" Kirk had asked. Chekov had nodded. "You're sure she only does it for Weldon?" Chekov had nodded again. "Huh, I wonder why Weldon."

"It is not because she is interested in him romantically. She has a partner. I think perhaps she is concerned he won't approve because of his religious beliefs." Chekov had answered.

"How do you know that?" Kirk had asked skeptically.

"I don't actually know it, but I assume it. He bows his head before he eats, even when he is with friends. People do that when they pray, and I have seen him standing before the view screens in the rec rooms reading very early in the morning. I think that he is praying, but I could be wrong." Chekov had answered.

"And how do you know Bowden has a partner?" the captain had asked.

"I don't think I should," Chekov had begun.

The captain had shaken his head and smirked. "Too late for that now, come on, talk."

Chekov had sighed and had looked uncomfortable, but he had said, "She is often in the labs while I am doing work for Mr. Spock. She gets many messages, but always at 2100 she gets one. She steps away to read it, just that one, no others, and when she does, her eyes get soft and she smiles. I thought maybe they came from someone she loves. Once I asked her who wrote and she blushed but didn't answer, so I knew I was right."

"Who do you think it is?" Hikaru had asked, despite himself.

"I don't know, but 2100 is an odd time for most shifts. However it is when the main mess closes."

"So you think it is someone from the kitchen, which is almost entirely manned by enlisted, which means she probably outranks them, which is why she is so secretive." The captain had finished. Chekov had nodded.

The captain had leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Wow," he had said, "it makes perfect sense. Were you aware of any of this?" Kirk had asked Sulu, who shook his head. "You are really observant Chekov." The ensign had shrugged, and looked longingly at the door.

Kirk had said, "You know, this is great. I get reports all day long, and they're almost never anything I want to hear about. Mr. Spock is smart, but Bowden could have been naked and giving tattoos to the entire kitchen staff and he wouldn't notice unless there was a regulation specifically forbidding it. If we miss following any ridiculous nit picking regulation ever written, that he could report on for hours. But not once has he ever mentioned any thing like this. You should really use this power of yours more often ensign. In fact, I have a great idea. Keep your eyes open and try to find something really interesting about Mr. Spock. Bring it to me first. I could probably make it worth your while."

Chekov had given the captain an alarmed look and then begun to shake his head vigorously. Kirk had watched him with narrowed eyes before saying, "You've got something on Spock. Tell."

"I don't." Chekov had said and quickly stuffed his donut into his mouth so that he couldn't talk. Sulu had known just by looking at Kirk that he wasn't going to forget. He had been trying to think of a distraction when Dr. McCoy had suddenly appeared beside their table.

The doctor had looked at their plates and frowned. He had sputtered, "First French fries then this."

The captain had forgotten all about Spock. He had turned to the doctor angrily and said, "Bones! Stop appearing and saying crazy things. It's annoying."

"It's annoying! I will tell you what's annoying. This crew can't feed itself. That's annoying. Damn it, I'm a doctor, not a nanny with a tiny spoon. I should be able to come to the dining room without having to rescue people from themselves."

"You could. You just don't." The captain had countered.

Chekov had taken the opportunity to escape, murmuring an excuse and bolting for the turbolift. Hikaru had followed. He had barely caught the lift, had slipped in just as the doors closed. Chekov had been in the far corner, head down, arms crossed. Hikaru had thought for an uncomfortable second the boy was crying but then realized the ensign was laughing.

Chekov had looked up at him and said, "It is so perfect. You could say it for anything. Surrounded by Klingons? First French fries, then this."

"Fire on board?" Hikaru had asked. "First French fries, then this."

They had spent the rest of the ride offering each other examples of catastrophes French fries led to. Thinking back, Sulu thought probably that had been the very start of their friendship.

It had been a couple of years, and they still did it sometimes. It was kind of a private good luck talisman. They didn't use it for horrible things, not when people died, but for uncomfortable things when they didn't know what else to say. He had said it to Chekov after his first serious girlfriend had dumped him and been rewarded with a real smile. Pav had offered it to him when they were part of a landing party that had all gotten some extraterrestrial version of poison ivy no one knew existed, and Hikaru had learned that he had absolutely no tolerance for hives. He remembered the day Pavel had gasped it out from a stretcher, choking on his own blood as a medic tried to hold him still for transport, and Hikaru, hearing it, had known everything would be alright. They had both said it in front of both the captain and the doctor, neither of whom remembered where it came from nor found it amusing like they did.

He was still sitting quietly when Nyota asked him. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking," he answered. "I've been sitting here thinking that I am pretty lucky sometimes. What are you doing?"

"I'm going up to sick bay to visit Pavel. Do you want to come too?"

"I would like that," he said, standing up. "Do you think it would be appropriate to ask him to take a look at the navigators' schedule? Kirk just banned x'Tan from the bridge."

"He will be happy to hear that. In fact he'll probably be so happy we won't even need to bring him a present, but let's do it anyway. I have been thinking about what he would like, and I decided it doesn't matter how sick he is, our Pasha would have to be dead to not be chafing under Dr. McCoy's idea of appropriate food, so I came down here to get him a milk shake. It can be from both of us. And he'll be mad if you don't show him the schedule so bring it too." Nyota said.

Hikaru said, "Can you wait just a second? I want to get him something else."

"Sure," said Nyota. "There's no rush. What did you have in mind?"

"French fries." Hikaru said. "Always the French fries first."


	2. Chapter 2

Nyota took a big spoonful of raspberry mousse. It was remarkably good, considering it didn't contain any real berries at all. She took another bite, and closed her eyes. She tried to imagine she was at a table in a tiny restaurant, savoring a treat from the farmer's market. A clatter of someone else's silverware hitting the table shattered the illusion. She opened an eye to see who was disturbing her. Christine Chapel slid into the seat across from her.

"I think the mousse may be the best dessert the machines make." Christine said in way of a greeting.

"You may be right." Nyota said. She spooned another bit into her mouth.

"And where is Mr. Spock?" asked Christine.

"He was just here; I believe he left to go to the labs. He is working on a study and has something he needs to check. If you hurry you may be able to catch him." Nyota said. He had just left, and she knew Christine didn't want to talk to him. They tended to avoid the mess at busy times for just this reason. There were always too many people eager to talk about their private relationship.

"No, I just wondered if it was alright if I join you?"

"It is always alright, I am happy to have company." Nyota said tartly. Christine was a friend, but she was a little too interested in Spock's comings and goings.

Christine smiled knowingly, picked up a spoon and said, "You say that, but I find it pretty rare that you don't already have company. But how was your day?"

Nyota considered for a minute. There had actually been some excitement on the bridge. She wondered if it was appropriate to share, as it had been a little dangerous and entirely someone's fault. But it had all ended alright. She decided to be noncommittal.

"It was fine; I had some down time, so I got to work on translating some materials we found last week. I am finding it really interesting. There were sheaths of glyphs shoved between the bricks of what we assume was a temple. It's like someone hid them there. I am beginning to think they may be poems. How romantic would it be if we found love poems left a millennium ago by some poor being forced into service to some deity? The lovers are gone, the temple is gone, even knowledge of the deity is gone, but the longing is still there, caught in those papers. And after all this time, I may be able to read it and understand. I love this job."

Christine nodded and said, "Or it may be laundry lists."

Nyota laughed, "Or it may be laundry lists. I wish I had a few days completely off to just stare at them. I feel like I get close, and then something distracts me."

"Like your real job." Christine laughed.

"Like my real job," Nyota agreed. "I am hoping to work some more on it tonight. And how was your day? Anything interesting happen?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I worked late because I was assisting Leonard in surgery. It was some guy from engineering who swung face first into a support beam. At shift change of course, it always is. He has a nasty laceration but it will heal fine. I always wonder how it is that no one in engineering ever manages to see what is right in front of them. It sent Leonard into a complete frenzy of course. He couldn't resist sharing some insights on people who walk into things that haven't moved. He expressed himself quite, hmm, I guess noisily might be the right word. Those new grads we picked up at Ertruck were actually hiding in the storage room before he was finished. Coaxing them out took a while too; today I do not love this job."

"Hiding from Leonard already? That's not a good sign. Did you tell them that if they can't stand a little emoting they might not be Enterprise material?"

"I told them. Then I went to tell him that I have had it with him terrorizing the staff, but he was busy fussing over Chekov and looked so worried I didn't want to disturb him."

"What was wrong with Chekov, I thought he was getting better?" Nyota said.

"He is, we actually moved him out of isolation, but his fever is back. It is probably just a coincidence, but I think it scared Leonard a little bit."

"Is it dangerous?"

"No, no, he was much sicker last week. He is going to be fine. He's got the flu. It isn't ever pleasant and this one is particularly bad. He spiked a fever earlier today too. He took a nap and was better, so I assume he'll do the same thing now. His antipyretics probably wore off. Who knows, maybe his nurse was hiding in the storage room when she was supposed to be giving him drugs. It is not that uncommon for people to do well in the daytime and then get feverish again in the evening. He'll be fine. I don't know why Leonard worries so much about him."

 _Because he is amazing and Dr. McCoy worries about all of us_ , Nyota thought. But she said only, "The doctor likes him. We all do."

"I actually think he feels guilty about the vaccination."

"Why would he? He tried to immunize everyone who went planet side when he heard about the ambassador's house getting ill. It isn't his fault Chekov was allergic to the serum."

"No, but it was his decision to not synthesize something else." Christine said. She took another bite of her salad and added. "We talked it over, and I agreed entirely, so he should blame me too if he is so desperate to assign responsibility. It would have taken a lot of man hours to come up with a different formula, and at the time we weren't sure it was worth it. The public health people from the planet warned us that humans working at the embassy had been made quite ill by the virus. But at that point Chekov hadn't mentioned his little date so we didn't know how thoroughly he had been exposed. And we thought that if he did get sick he would be the only one, since everyone else in the party could handle the vaccine. We checked, and the ambassador's household was all recovering, we figured if the worst happened we could treat it like any other viral illness. We didn't have any idea how sick he would be."

Nyota set her spoon down and looked at her friend in surprise. "It was that bad?"

"He was pretty sick for a while there. Like I said, he's going to be fine."

"I had no idea. No one said anything."

"That's why we did the second round of immunizations. Once we knew how sick it made humans we had to make sure it didn't spread."

"Poor Pasha! I feel badly, I haven't even visited. You should have told me."

"I haven't seen you for a while. If I had been worried I would have let you know, but I wasn't. He's going to be fine."

"Can I see him now?"

"Sure, he would probably like that. Leonard has him on almost complete activity restriction. He can't do anything, and as soon as he feels better he's going to get pretty bored. But if you plan to come today you should do it fairly soon. Leonard isn't going to want people disturbing him when he should be sleeping."

"I should bring him something. What do you think he would like?" Nyota asked.

"I don't know. You know him way better than I do. What do you think he would like?"

"Almost anything, he's easy to please."

"Don't get him a book, his eyes are sore and Leonard won't let him read. Would he like a plant?"

"No, maybe a top, or something like that."

"Seriously? What is he, five?"

"He doesn't play with them, he just likes proof that you were thinking of him." Nyota said. Christine looked skeptical. Nyota tried again, "What he really would have liked is company, which I didn't offer, and that is why I want to do something nice."

Christine shrugged and said, "Just bring him something to eat. He refuses almost everything we set in front of him. That's another thing bothering Leonard; he tore into him for that today too." She added thoughtfully, "Next time we have to write out our professional goals I am going to say mine are to: A) convince the CMO to stop scaring the staff and B) get him to not yell at the patients."

Nyota laughed. "Good luck with that, but thanks for the idea Christine. I'll get him a milkshake, he'll like that. And it will be easy for him to eat."

"Have fun." Christine said. "I have had quite enough of the medical unit for the next twelve hours so I don't think I'll join you."

"I don't blame you." Nyota said, starting to rise.

"I hope you get to your translations." Christine said.

"Thanks, I am sure that I will." Nyota said, and smiled a goodbye to Christine. She went toward the replicators, intent on making a milkshake. She wondered about the flavor; Pavel was a notoriously picky eater. She had decided on chocolate when she noticed Hikaru Sulu sitting by himself at one of the tables. He had a half empty bowl of chili in front of him and was staring into space. It was unusual to see him in the cafeteria between meals; he loved a schedule and usually went to the gym after work. She was surprised enough by the change in his routine that she decided to stop and check on him before she went to sick bay.

She walked up to his table. He continued to stare into the air. She wondered if he had been more upset than he had seemed by the adventures with the asteroid on the bridge earlier in the day. She cleared her throat and asked, "What are you doing?"

At the sound of her voice his eyes came back in focus. He smiled at her and said, "Thinking, I've been sitting here thinking that I am pretty lucky sometimes. What are you doing?"

"I'm going up to sick bay to visit Pavel. Do you want to come too?"

"I would like that," he said, standing up. He picked up a PADD he had left on the table, smiled guiltily and asked, "Do you think it would be appropriate to ask him to take a look at the navigators' schedule? Kirk just banned x'Tan from the bridge."

Nyota was surprised. It wasn't like Captain Kirk to get so angry over a first mistake, perhaps the miss today had been nearer than she had realized. But she knew Chekov didn't like Lieutenant x'Tan, so she said, "He will be happy to hear that. In fact he'll probably be so happy we won't even need to bring him a present, but let's do it anyway. I have been thinking about what he would like, and I decided it doesn't matter how sick he is, our Pasha would have to be dead to not be chafing under Dr. McCoy's idea of appropriate food, so I came down here to get him a milk shake. It can be from both of us. And he'll be mad if you don't show him the schedule so bring it too."

Hikaru said, "Can you wait just a second? I want to get him something else."

"Sure," said Nyota. "There's no rush. What did you have in mind?"

"French fries," Hikaru said. "Always the French fries first."

French fries seemed to Nyota to be a very unlikely gift for a sick person, but Hikaru seemed committed to the idea, so she waited while he replicated some. When he was finished she pushed the buttons for a chocolate milkshake. Sulu frowned.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing." he said, but he looked like he wanted to say something.

"What?" she asked again.

"Pav likes the yogurt ones better. He likes sour more than sweet. But it's probably fine."

"Of course it's not fine. I want to get him something he will like." Uhura snapped. She reordered, started to recycle the chocolate one, but paused and instead got two more spoons. They left for sick bay.

In the lift she turned to Sulu and asked, "What were you thinking about so seriously back there?"

He smiled and said, "I was trying to remember when I first got to be Pav's friend. It isn't that easy. I remember I thought he was kind of stuck up when I first met him."

"Stuck up? Pasha? I don't remember thinking anything like that. I am pretty sure I liked you both all along." she said.

Hikaru laughed and said, "Well, that was nice of you. And now I feel like even a bigger jerk. Thanks."

They exited the turbolift and pushed through the double doors of the medical unit. Nyota always thought sick bay seemed more brightly lit than the hall outside it. And it had the antiseptic smell that marked hospitals everywhere. She asked to see Ensign Pavel Chekov and was directed back to the medical ward. Through the windows in the door she could see her friend Pavel. He was in the very first bed, closest to the door. He had the head of the bed raised and was staring morosely at a water cup on the over bed table. But as soon as he saw them he grinned and waved.

"Hey, how are you?" called Hikaru.

"You came to see me." Pavel said. His voice sounded hoarse and weak, but so happy that Nyota immediately felt guilty again. She was a little shocked by his appearance. He was thin and pale even for him. His eyes were irritated looking with bright red lids and surrounded with fresh bruising.

"How do you feel?" asked Hikaru.

There was a short pause and then Chekov said brightly, "I feel good!"

"You don't look good." Hikaru said. Chekov smiled and shrugged.

Hikaru took a seat next to the ensign and looked at him carefully. He asked, "What's up with the eyes?"

"They tell me they look bad but they don't hurt. I did it to myself. The illness made my eyes swell, and they itch. Apparently I rubbed them hard enough to break the blood vessels."

"What did you do that for?"

"I didn't know that I was. It was last week, when the fever was high. I don't remember."

"Jesus Pav." Hikaru said.

Chekov shrugged. "I have had many black eyes. I never gave them to myself before. It makes a change."

Hikaru laughed and said, "I brought you a present." he held out the little container.

"French fries!" Chekov said with delight. He grinned at his friend and they started to laugh, but Chekov's turned into a cough. He pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his head. The coughs sounded painful and shook his whole thin body. Nyota reached down to rub his shoulders. She could feel the bones in his back and even through the gown he felt hot where she touched him. When he finally stopped coughing he looked at Hikaru with watery eyes and wheezed, "First French fries and then this." The two of them began to laugh again.

Nyota said, "Pasha, you need to eat." Pavel looked at her with surprise. She realized she had sounded like she was giving him an order. That hadn't been her intention. She was just concerned. He seemed so frail, it scared her.

"How do you answer, 'Yes sir', or 'Yes mom'?" asked Hikaru, frowning at Nyota over the bed.

"It is much worse than that. I feel like I should say, 'Yes Dr. McCoy', and that is bad." Pavel said. But he smiled at her and she knew he wasn't upset.

A young woman dressed in a short blue uniform entered the room. Ignoring his visitors she marched up to Pavel and said, "Your heart rate is up again." in an accusatory tone.

"I'm sorry. Miss O'Loughlin," Chekov said. "I was coughing."

"It's not good for you." the young woman said with a frown. "And it sets off all the alarms."

"I don't do it on purpose." Pavel muttered.

"Is it our fault? Do we need to leave?" Hikaru asked.

"That might be a good idea." the nurse said.

"No." Chekov said. Nyota looked at him closely. He still had his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He was sweaty and breathing heavily from the coughing spell. He looked exhausted.

"Are you sure you want company?" she asked doubtfully.

"Don't leave." he said. He sounded miserable, not at all like himself. Nyota reached for a chair by the next bed, pulled it up to Chekov's and sat down. She looked defiantly at the young woman.

"Suit yourself." the young woman said. She marched out of the room as firmly as she entered it.

"I hate being sick." Pavel muttered to her back as she left. He looked at Sulu and added, "I like your gift very much 'Karu, but I can't eat them. My throat looks like my eyes, and everything I want to eat hurts too much."

"I'll eat them then." Sulu said, and dug out a fry.

Chekov frowned. "I coughed all over those."

"I'm immunized." Sulu said with a shrug. He ate several more fries.

"Could you eat a milkshake?" Nyota asked.

"I think so." said Chekov sounding a little uncertain.

"Sulu said you like yogurt better, so I got you one of those." she said, handing him one of the cups and a spoon.

"I do, I really do. Thank you!" Chekov said. Nyota couldn't help smiling because he said it with almost his usual enthusiasm.

"I told her you liked the sour ones so she got the frozen cranberry. It has those little icy fruit bits in it." Hikaru said.

"That is the best part!" Chekov said.

Nyota went to the storage cupboard and rummaged in it until she found two cups. She divided the chocolate milkshake and kept one for herself and gave one to Hikaru. As she did she noticed a wooden cylinder sitting on the bedside tray.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Look," Chekov chirped, his mouth full of yogurt.

Nyota picked up the little tube and examined it closely. There was a small hole at one end. Curiously she peered through it. Inside it were beautiful, swirls of color arranged in symmetrical patterns.

"How do you say this in Standard?" Chekov asked.

"Kaleidoscope," she said. "How do you say it in Russian?"

"Almost the same, kaleidoscope." It was the same word, with different stress on some of the syllables.

"You're never going to say it the way we do are you?" Hikaru asked.

"Probably not." agreed Chekov.

"Oh Pasha, this is perfect. If I saw this in a store, I would think of you." Nyota said, turning the toy without removing it from her eye. "Where did you get it?"

"The captain gave it to me."

"Captain Kirk?" Nyota set the cylinder back on the table and stared at Chekov.

"Yes. He sent it in to me while I was in the isolation ward."

"Captain Kirk visited you in isolation?" Nyota repeated.

"He couldn't come in, but he waved to me. If he wasn't too busy he would talk to me through the communicator. And he sent me jokes and little notes on the PADD they let me have. I appreciated it; even though I couldn't always read and when I could the jokes were never funny anyway. He gave me other presents too, small things, but this is my favorite." He picked up the little kaleidoscope and twirled it in his fingers. "They had to seal it in a clear wrapper so that I wouldn't make it contagious, and most of the time I couldn't see inside it anyway. But they let me have it. It was good."

Nyota leaned over the table and rested her head on her hand. "You are saying Captain James T. Kirk came down to sick bay to visit you." Chekov nodded. "Every day?"

"I think so. As I said, I don't remember every day. But he comes to see any of the crew that is in sick bay, so I assume that he did so."

"I never knew he did that." Nyota said.

"I didn't either." Hikaru mused.

"You are both very lucky." Chekov said seriously. "You have not been in sick bay as often as I have, so you do not know all the routines. He checks on everyone. The captain knows what it is like to be here. Dr. McCoy said he has spent more time in sick bay than any other crew member this year."

"Is it a contest?" laughed Hikaru.

"If it is I would very much like to lose. I am currently in second place, or so the doctor assures me. He says we do not reflect well on his skills." Pavel said bitterly.

Nyota watched him run his spoon around the top of the ice cream, and resisted the urge to tell him to just eat it. Instead she said, "I didn't think you could have visitors while you were in isolation. I should have thought about writing your PADD."

"Most of the time I could not read it anyway. My eyes were too swollen. I am happy you are here now. And you brought me frozen yogurt, which is the important thing." He took another bite and swallowed gingerly.

"That reminds me that I have something I want to show you." Hikaru said, setting aside his milk shake. He opened his PADD and turned to the navigators' duty schedule he had brought up earlier. He set it on the bedside table so that Pavel could see it.

"I brought it down here to ask your opinion. I have to make some changes to this thing," he said, "Captain Kirk threw x'Tan off the bridge today."

Chekov actually clapped. Nyota frowned at his rudeness but he completely ignored her.

"Is this real?" he asked.

"Apparently so, x'Tan did it to himself. He turned off all the alarms at the navigations station and forgot to turn them back on. We got a little close to an asteroid earlier today. Kirk was not happy."

Chekov grinned as he leaned over the PADD. He studied the schedule while Sulu began to discuss the relative merits of their fellow officers.

Nyota settled into her chair and watched them work. Pavel looked happier and began nodding enthusiastically as Hikaru talked; he was getting excited because there was a problem to solve. Hikaru was calm and collected, presenting the data but probably already pretty determined what he was going to do. She watched Hikaru use his fingers to tick off his concerns about the relief navigators. Someday, she thought, Hikaru will be an excellent captain. They were two of her very favorite people.

Hikaru had said he had been trying to remember when he had first considered Pavel a friend. She had told Hikaru she had liked them both all along, and that had been true. She didn't believe friendships just magically began. Nyota knew lots of people and she liked most of them, but she didn't consider them all her friends. At some point she had made a conscious decision that these two were worth spending more time with. She was pretty sure it wasn't any one thing that had done it; it had been the culmination of lots of things.

She had known Hikaru a little at the academy. They hadn't had classes together, but early on, when she had still gone to parties, they had often attended the same ones. He had been a sought after guest, part of the most admired group of students on the campus. She didn't think it was an actual club, just people who tended to gravitate to other smart, good looking people. He was a pilot, and she tended not to like the pilots, but he was far less attention seeking than many others. She had never seen him break furniture or scream. She had never heard of him taking total a stranger home after a party. He tended to nurse a drink and talk politics. He was very well informed. He knew when to listen, and smiled at all the jokes.

When she had first known Hikaru, she had liked him. But they hadn't become friends until they worked together on the Enterprise. Like everyone else, she had been struck by his bravery when he volunteered to jump from the ship to Nero's platform. But she had actually been more impressed by the way he hadn't wilted when the ship failed to move the first time he piloted, the unflustered way he went right back to work. And eventually she had seen other qualities she had admired even more.

He was very disciplined. He worked out a lot. He taught self-defense classes and fencing classes, and sparred with anyone who asked. She had watched him in the gym and admired the way he encouraged all his students without ordering them around. He gave them space. He offered advice but wasn't bothered if people decided not to follow it. He treated everyone respectfully, he expected everyone to improve. And when they did, he gave them full credit for their successes. He didn't need much attention, he was too confident for that.

She had been down in the labs with Spock, and as she had walked to the turbolift she had seen Hikaru working in one of the botany labs. She had stopped in to say hello, and he had seemed glad of an interruption, so she had stayed to visit. He had been explaining his research when she noticed a group of sketches piled at one end of the table.

"What are these?" she had asked.

"Those show the plants in my study at various stages of their lives," he had explained.

"Where did you get them? Did you make them?"

"One of my friends does them. I thought he might come by later so I got them out."

"They're pretty, but it would be so much easier to take an image. Why don't you just do that?"

"I do," he said, "and if I ever publish this work, that is what I probably will have to use, but in the meantime, I like the sketches."

She had looked at him doubtfully, he had laughed and explained. "Last summer I went to London. I spent a lot of time in the Linnean Society archives. Do you know the Linnean Society? It's kind of a club for people interested in biology. It has been around more than 500 years. A lot of classic European scientist belonged. All their original work is still there, it's available for viewing. It is amazing; you can see Darwin's notes in his original handwriting. All of the old works were illustrated by hand of course. I really enjoyed looking at them. They were beautiful, and I could imagine how the scientists felt, looking for the perfect illustrator to preserve their specimens and make their studies real to other people. So anyway, one day my friend was down here and he was dabbling away on his PADD. When I saw that he was sketching the flowers of some of my test subjects I asked him to do all of them. Then I asked him to do the whole plants. I like looking at them. I know it's stupid, but having these drawings kind of gives me a sense of kinship with the early scientists. I feel like some ancient member of the Society ready to go have lunch with Charles Darwin. You can go ahead and laugh. I know it's funny."

She hadn't laughed, because she had understood exactly what he meant. Nyota was a romantic too, but she had never said anything about her imagination so openly. She had loved his face when he talked about it, a little embarrassed and a little proud, and completely unconcerned about what she thought. She had thought it was charming that he was so truthful, and had decided to try to be more open about her own motivations.

The captain got bored easily. When the bridge was slow, he loved to tease, he provoked everyone. Occasionally he overdid it. Spock completely refused to participate, would cock an eyebrow and continue what he was doing as if the captain weren't speaking. She knew that was the proper response. It was a much better one than either Dr. McCoy's or her own; he got furious and she got scornful. Kirk loved that, so they were both frequent targets. Hikaru didn't seem perturbed by it; she admired the way he could give as good as he got without losing his temper or getting disrespectful. When Pavel was the target he tended to retreat into a bewildered silence, which she found very painful to watch. It must have bothered Hikaru too. One day, in the middle of one of Kirk's routines, he turned around and said firmly, "Captain, that's enough."

The captain had stopped, looked surprised, and then said, "Well okay, what else shall we talk about? Wait I know," before launching into a long story about some incredibly unlikely high school adventure with himself as the hero. She glanced over; Hikaru had gone right back to work as if nothing had happened, as if rescuing gentle souls from insensitive bosses was such a usual thing for him he didn't even need to think about it.

She had always liked Hikaru. It wasn't any one thing it was that made her decide she be his friend, it was all of them.

Pavel was a little different. He had been so young when she first met him she hadn't even considered the possibility of a friendship with him. She had assumed they would have nothing in common. But he had surprised her. And she had not been the only one, which was perhaps why she still remembered the specifics of their first meeting so well.

She had been sitting outside the student center in San Francisco, studying with her roommate and some other friends. He had run right up to the door and gone in. He had been followed by a pack of Admiral Archer's dogs. The dogs had sat at the door, ignoring all the other students and whining. Eventually he had come out holding a hot dog, and the dogs had gone crazy. He had sat on the ground and shared the sausage with them. They had climbed all over him and licked him while he laughed and talked to them in Russian.

"That may actually be the cutest thing I have ever seen." Beth had said.

Gaila had asked, "Has he reached the age of consent?"

"What you are suggesting is repulsive." Thori Zh'ikever had snapped, her face flushing a pretty dark blue from embarrassment. "Cadet Chekov is a child. If he were not a child he would still be far too brilliant to consider wasting his time in the manner you would prefer."

"That's a cadet?" Nyota had asked.

Thori Zh'ikever had nodded, "His name is Pavel Andreievich Chekov. He is considered quite gifted at mathematics and I think he may be a better code writer than I am." Nyota had been impressed; Andorians do not easily give compliments. The boy had stood up and brushed off his knees, preparing to continue his run.

Gaila had called, "Would you bring the puppies to visit me if I gave you my room number? And could you please wear those same little pants?"

The cadet had looked around in confusion; decided she was speaking to him and walked up to their table.

"I am sorry ma'am, they are not my dogs. You could ask Admiral Archer, he is generous with them I think. Oh hello Thori Zh'ikever, I did not see you there."

"Hello," Thori Zh'ikever had said, still blushing to the very tips of her antennae. Watching her, Nyota had wondered if perhaps there was another reason the Andorian had reacted so strongly to Gaila's proposition. She had looked closely at the boy; to her he had seemed ridiculously young, nothing but skinny legs and freckles.

Thori Zh'ikever had continued, "I know you have permission to exercise those animals Pavel Andreievich Chekov, but do you have permission to feed them?"

"Well, I wasn't told I couldn't feed them." he had replied cheerfully. He had cocked his head and added, "It makes them happy, and that makes me happier."

"Oh, you are too good to be true." Gaila had said wistfully.

"Ma'am?" the cadet had asked uncertainly.

Nyota had leaned forward and asked the boy a question in Russian. He had grinned and responded rapidly. She had nodded and taken out her PADD. She made a note in the calendar and handed it to him. He had begun to add his contact information.

"What are you doing?" Thori Zh'ikever had asked suspiciously.

Chekov had said, "This cadet speaks Russian Thori, she wants me to help her. I told her that she doesn't need help, I could understand her fine, but she wants to practice anyway. Won't that be fun?"

"You will enjoy it." Thori Zh'ikever had said dryly, giving Nyota a resentful look.

Chekov had continued. "I told her I can do it on Tuesday afternoon or Thursday evening, but on Thursday I must be finished by 20:00, because that is when coding wars start, and I don't want to be late, it is the best time of my week." He had smiled at Thori Zh'ikever, who had looked a little mollified.

"I too look forward to coding wars." she had said primly.

"I will take Tuesday. Meet me here at 1500. I will send you a reminder. Make sure you read it. My name is Uhura." Nyota had said. The boy had nodded and called to the dogs. He had waved as he ran off.

"You girls are so lucky," Gaila had said. "See that you enjoy it, I would."

And Nyota had been surprised by how much she did enjoy Tuesdays. It was hard not to be happy around Pavel. Whenever she had walked into the cafeteria he would greet her by jumping out of his chair and grinning like she had brought him a present. And he had been so much more interesting than she had expected. She would start the discussion with a question. He would answer and then ask her a slew of questions, some of which had seemed only tangentially related to the topic. But by the end of every discussion he would pull it all together and she would realize he had made connections that she would never have seen without him.

After they had met several times he had begun to ask her to explain things he had heard and didn't understand. When his questions had been too detailed for her Russian or her answers for his Standard, they had switched to French, which they both spoke very well. Some of his misconceptions had been language based, but many were experiential. He had been so young; some things had been very difficult to explain, but it had always seemed important to him and so she had tried. He loved to learn, his expression when he understood had always made her feel the effort was worth it.

One day she had gotten to the cafeteria a little late and had been frustrated to find Gaila sitting at his table, chatting happily with Pavel.

"We are going to practice Russian Gaila, you don't speak it. Go on and let us talk." she had said.

"I want to come too Nyota. You always have fun. Let me come with you."

"We don't have fun, we work. You won't understand and we will have to speak Standard if you are with us. Go over to the labs and I will see you later."

"I want to see the frescos. You said they were pretty." Gaila had pouted. On a recent walk Pavel had pointed out some artwork Nyota had never noticed before. She had foolishly mentioned it to Gaila.

"I will show you the frescos another time; we just saw them last week. Today we want to do something else. Don't be silly." Nyota had said. She had known Gaila hadn't really cared about the art; she had just liked to be part of everything. Nyota didn't always mind, but on school days she tried to keep a strict schedule. She had budgeted the afternoon for Russian. She had known Pavel was too polite to exclude Gaila from the conversation. The time would be wasted.

Pavel had looked concerned as he watched them argue. Finally he had said, "If you want to see something pretty I know where something wonderful will happen. If you come on, we can all go and see!"

He had grabbed napkins and several slices of bread and some fruit, sliding them into his pockets. Gaila had happily followed, shoving food in her pockets too. Nyota had still felt a little resentful, but went along and followed him to the playfields on the far side of campus. When they arrived he had shown them how to bury the food in piles under sticks and scraps of yarn and paper. Then he had grabbed both their hands and pulled them to the bushes at the edge of the field. He had dropped to the ground and pulled his knees to his chin, and had sat watching the field expectantly. Gaila had snuggled up next to him. Nyota had given her a warning look which Gaila had pretended not to see.

Nyota had sat down next to Gaila, put her arm around her waist and firmly pulled her off the young tutor. She had not been gentle, she still felt a little resentful, disappointed to miss her Russian practice. She had always planned every day carefully and didn't like to change without notice. But she hadn't allowed herself to complain. She had begun to appreciate that Pavel had a gift for finding beauty that slipped between the time line brackets of her organized life.

They had sat quietly together for a few minutes and then an iridescent blue and black bird had landed on the field. It had hopped over to a pile and began to pick through it, occasionally pulling out a bit of food and croaking in triumph. The sun had made his feathers sparkle like a jewels. He had been quickly joined by others like him, and then by a huge black raven. Soon the field had looked like a shopping mall, with the birds walking the aisles croaking at each other like overdressed old women quibbling over prices. It had been beautiful, and funny, and completely unexpected.

Gaila had loved it. She had cooed every time a bird pulled out a treat. And she had looked so happy, had been so completely caught up in joy that Nyota had started feeling glad to have come. She had leaned over to tell Pavel so, and to thank him. He had answered her in Russian. "It is better for me, because I get to see you enjoy it too."

Gaila had been reluctant to leave and had continued to babble about the birds all the way back to the dorm. After Pavel had said good bye and left, Gaila had turned to Nyota and said, "I understand why you like him Nyota. Did you see how happy he was to please us? I think he will be an excellent lover, but I love you so much I will leave him for you if you want."

Nyota had said, "Very noble of you, thanks, I would appreciate that sacrifice very much." She had known from previous attempts that trying to explain platonic affection to Gaila would be a waste of time. She had decided it would be safer for young Cadet Chekov if Gaila thought he was hers and so she had not argued.

She had thought it had worked. She had been able to enjoy her Russian practice in peace, until she had gotten overwhelmed by her honors thesis and had jettisoned all the pleasant parts of her life to get it finished.

After that she had become Spock's teaching assistant, and for one reason and another, that had taken up all her time. She hadn't seen Pavel in more than a year when she arrived on the bridge of the Enterprise. She had been surprised to see him there, but not by how clever he was. He had grown up to be more reserved and serious than she would have guessed. He had smiled at her, but it hadn't been his old grin.

The bridge had been so busy she hadn't even said hello that first shift, and then everything happened so fast she hadn't had a chance until days later. Their first conversation had been awkward; he had seemed distant. She remembered being afraid he would ask about Gaila and trying to avoid the topic. She had planned to do better the next time, but it had taken a long while for them to have a second chance. He had always smiled and acknowledged her on the bridge, but she never saw him off duty. She had looked for him, but she hadn't even seen him in the mess. It hadn't occurred to her until much later that he had been avoiding her.

Nyota shifted in her chair. Her chest felt a little tight. It had been two years, but it still did whenever she thought of Gaila. She let her eyes rest on Pasha. He looked up. Something in her expression must have worried him, he studied her thoughtfully. She smiled at him reassuringly. He smiled back and looked down at the page Sulu was pointing to, but his attention was divided. He kept glancing back up at her, trying to see what was wrong.

It had been so confusing after Nero; there had been so much destruction. It had been impossible to get accurate information. At first it had been easy to hope, and then later to pretend, but eventually the lists of confirmed dead had been complete. When the packet containing the final list had come across her board she had forwarded it to the captain without opening it. She had looked later, in her room, all alone. She had been expecting it, but when she had seen Gaila's name, she hadn't been able to breathe.

Everyone had been kind, but everyone had been mourning. Every single person on the ship had lost someone in the attack, most had lost several. And the list had reminded everyone. Spock had been so good to her, but she had felt self-indulgent crying about a roommate while he stoically bore the loss of his mother, and his entire planet. So she had been calm, and gone about her work, and every time she had thought of Gaila, she had blinked away her tears and just worked harder.

Three days after the lists came out she had been sitting in her room staring at some work when she heard a tentative knock on her door. She had ignored it, but it had come again, and this time it had been stronger. She had sighed and glanced at the chrom. She had been astonished to see that she had been sitting on the bed for three hours. She hadn't made any progress on her work, and hadn't been able to remember any time passing. She had gotten up, determined to deal with the interruption and then get to work like a grown up. She had opened the door.

Pavel had said apologetically, "I am sorry to disturb you Miss Uhura."

She had answered briskly, "That's not a problem. How can I help you? Do you need something? Did the captain send you?" She looked down the hall behind him, as if she might see her responsibilities down there.

He had shaken his head. He had looked like he had something he wanted to say, but instead he held out his hand. In his palm was a thin length of leather.

"Is that for me?" she asked. He nodded. She took it and had let it dangle from her hand. She had looked at it curiously. The leather had been knotted and had a small crystal bird hanging from it. Its wings were spread and its face was lifted like it was calling. It looked happy. The glass had little rivets cut into it which caught the light and dispersed it. As the leather twisted the bird shifted and little rainbows had danced on the walls around them. She had known immediately whose it had been. Gaila had always loved shiny things.

"She gave it to me, because of the birds. Do you remember the birds? Now I think she would want you to have it." Pavel had said quietly.

Nyota had stared at the trinket. She hadn't known what to say, and hadn't been certain her voice would work. Pavel had stepped back, and just looked at her sympathetically with big, sad eyes.

The lump in her throat had made Nyota feel like she was choking. Finally she had taken a deep breath and managed to say, "Thank you, I appreciate the effort you took to bring it to me. But she gave this to you, and you were her friend too, I don't want to take it from you." She had held the necklace out to him.

Pavel had said, "She liked me, she loved you."

That had broken Nyota's resolve. She had felt tears well in her eyes. "It was kind of you to think of me Pasha." she said.

"Is it alright that I came?" he had asked. "I could tell you were sad, and I was afraid maybe I would only make it worse."

She had choked, one of those undignified half laugh and half sob noises people make sometimes. She had asked, "How could you have known? I didn't even know I was this sad."

"I saw you." he had said.

She had taken another deep breath and said, "Pasha, of course it's alright. I am going to treasure the little bird. I am happy to see you, I have been looking for you, and I am glad you came to see me. I should have made time to see you earlier. I appreciate all of this so much." She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm sorry; I thought I was finished with this."

Pavel had sounded confused when he said, "But she died."

Nyota had answered, "I am trying to keep perspective. So many people have had worse losses."

"Worse?"

"We have crewmates who lost spouses, children, siblings."

He had shaken his head and said, "I do not think you should rank grief as important or less important. It is enough that it is important to you."

"And to you." Nyota had said. He had nodded.

"And to me." he had said quietly.

She had really started to cry then. He had looked so distressed that she had given him a hug, pulled him into her room, and made tea. She had sobbed and talked about Gaila the whole time they drank it. He had said almost nothing, but had nodded a lot and watched her hang the necklace from her mirror. When he left she had hugged him again and asked him to please come back and see it whenever he wanted.

It was still there. It got knocked around as she rushed in the morning, so that sometimes in the evening rainbows would appear unexpectedly in the room. They never failed to make her remember Gaila. Pasha did too; she could tell by his expression whenever he saw one. She thought one of the reasons Pavel liked to lie on the floor when he visited was because he could see them so well from that angle. She knew it was only a fancy, but she thought they tended to appear more frequently when he was around. She needed to remember to tell him so, he would like that.

"Nyota?" Hikaru's voice brought her back to the present. They were staring at her, Pavel looked concerned and Hikaru slightly amused.

"Sorry, I guess I was daydreaming. Did I miss anything interesting?" she asked.

"Interesting? We just spent fifteen minutes discussing various staffing alternatives to meet the navigational needs of our starship. What could have possibly been more interesting than that?" Hikaru teased. He smiled cheerfully but his eyes were watchful, he too was concerned.

"Are you alright?" Chekov asked.

That was Pasha, she thought, laying sick and feverish in the medical bay, but still worried about her. He was her friend that sometimes understood what she felt before she did.

Hikaru said, "Pav thought of something completely different. He thinks I should have the number four and five guys work twelve hour shifts with Lieutenant Darwin scheduled to be on the bridge from 0300 to 0700 and from 1930 to 2330. He says that way she can check on both of them during the times when there are least likely to be more experienced people around. She can extend her hours if she has any concerns, and get uninterrupted sleep while I am available. What do you think?"

And that, she thought, was Hikaru. Giving her plenty of space, confident she was fine, but present and ready, just in case she wasn't. They were both very dear to her.

"I actually think that is a great idea." the captain said. Nyota looked up in surprise. Kirk was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, grinning at the three of them. "Pretty smart Chekov, I don't know Bones, are you sure he's actually sick?"

"Oh I'm sure, he's sick. Move yourself. I need to see my patient." Dr. McCoy shoved the captain out of the way and walked over to the bed, his eyes on the lights on the screen above Chekov.

"Great." Pavel sighed, sinking into the bed.

A grinning Montgomery Scott followed the doctor, and Spock brought up the rear. He nodded to Nyota and came to stand beside her as the engineer leaned over the bed.

"Now then, is that any way to greet our great leader and your good friends, come to show you our concern now that you aren't contagious?" Scotty asked.

"I am very happy to see you sir." Pavel said, emphasizing the "you" while he kept his eyes on the doctor.

"Did you drink all the water?" McCoy barked.

"I tried sir." Pavel replied.

"Which means you didn't. Did you do the respiratory exercises I prescribed?"

"I did everything else you said to do. I want to go to my own room."

"No," said Dr. McCoy pointing at the monitors over the bed. "You will not be going to your own room. Do you see these red lights? This one means you have a fever, this one means your heart rate is elevated, this one means your oxygenation level is low. You aren't going to your room until I say so, and that won't be until all of these lights are green, which may not be for days."

"Well, he didn't like that one bit." Mr. Scott said with a nod toward Chekov. The doctor looked across the bed and frowned. Nyota followed his glance. Pavel was staring at the bed and slowly rubbing his hands across the spread.

"Stop sulking, if you want to go to your own room you need to start doing what you're told." The doctor said.

Pavel looked up at the doctor and nodded, kneading the spread nervously. McCoy watched him for a few seconds, and then said, "What?"

Pavel looked at him but didn't speak. Nyota thought he was breathing harder. She noticed Hikaru shifted his chair to pull a little closer to Pavel.

"Spit it out Chekov, do you think you're the only patient I have to take care of? I am not going to stand here begging you to tell me what's on your mind." said the doctor.

"Actually Bones he is the only patient." laughed the captain, gesturing toward the empty ward.

"Not everything that happens down here may be apparent to you Captain Kirk," began the doctor angrily. Nyota could tell by his face that he was just gathering his resources for a long defense of the work done in the medical unit when he was interrupted by Pavel asking quietly,

"Are you going to put me back in isolation?"

The doctor stopped with his mouth open. He looked down at Pavel and frowned, but his voice when he answered was much gentler. "No son, you're done with all that."

Pavel smiled weakly and said, "Okay, that's good. I'm glad."

The doctor patted his arm before resuming his previous tone. "So Mr. Chekov, you just settle back in that bed and get accustomed to sleeping in it. It's your home for the foreseeable future. You should be perfectly comfortable; you've spent plenty of time here. I know you've had plenty of opportunities to learn that you are in charge of your own health. I told you so this morning; I gave you specific instructions to follow. But you didn't. And you're not the only one. People need to learn to participate in their own care. I am fighting a losing battle with this crew. I tell people simple things they can do to keep themselves healthy, no one listens."

The captain chuckled, and the doctor turned to him, "Don't you start Kirk. He learns it from you. You are worse than he is." He looked back at Pavel and stopped speaking. Pavel was smiling beatifically and staring at the ceiling just above McCoy's head. Beside him Hikaru was chuckling.

Hikaru punched Pavel's arm, which got his attention. Pavel looked at him uncertainly, blinking his eyes back into focus. Hikaru nodded at the doctor and said, "I think he's finished."

"Oh," Chekov said. He looked at McCoy and added, "You are right sir." Hikaru and the captain both exploded into laughter. Nyota couldn't imagine why. The doctor looked mad enough to beat a drum.

McCoy snorted. "So I am right?" Chekov nodded nervously and glanced at the captain, who laughed harder. McCoy turned and stamped back to the nurses' desk in the other room. "O'Loughlin!" he yelled. "O'Loughlin, I want to talk to you."

"Great, great, really great." Chekov said, this time to the doctor's back. He reached down to yank the covers protectively up to his neck.

"Now, none of that." Scott said, "I've brought you a present." He handed Pavel a small box. Chekov gave him a guilty smile and pried up the lid to look at the contents.

"Legos!" he said, "I love Legos. Thank you Mr. Scott, these will be fun."

"I love Legos too!" said the captain. "Where did you find those Scotty?"

"We've got barrels of them down in engineering." Mr. Scott said nodding his head toward Chekov. "He's not the only one who plays with them. I just dug him out an assortment."

"Can I play too?" Hikaru asked, still laughing. Pavel set the box on the table. The captain and the helmsman dug into it, exclaiming happily over pieces they recognized.

The doctor walked back in, looking satisfied. He stopped when he saw the box. "Are those Legos?" he asked.

Pavel smiled and gestured toward the box. The doctor joined the other men in examining the blocks. "I haven't seen these in years." He said. "I used to love these. My brother and I flipped his mattress off the top bunk in our room and built an entire city up there one summer." Spock stepped closer to get a better view, although he didn't join in the grabbing of pieces.

Nyota stood up to join her friends around the table. Reaching into the little box she took a handful and handed a few pieces to Spock. He looked at them curiously and began to fit them together.

Shall we all make our own thing or are we building something specific?" Hikaru asked.

"They're your toys Chekov. What do you want?" asked Mr. Scott.

Pasha shrugged and looked up at Nyota. "I like it all, you decide." he said.

She looked at her friends and said, "Lego together."

Pavel looked charmed, and Hikaru smiled at her play on words. The captain missed the pun entirely. He had been too busy jumping into full command mode at the prospect of building a space station out of Legos. He immediately took charge and began assigning jobs to everyone. She tried not to laugh, it was so him. He was the exception to her rule, the one person on the ship she had known she didn't want to befriend, but somehow he had managed to make her do it anyway. But then, he had done some pretty great things too.

She looked around the room. Spock had ignored the captain's instructions and was building something complicated of his own design. Pavel was working happily at his task; he looked happier with something to do. The doctor fiddled with the toys but his attention was mostly on Pavel, whom he watched like an anxious parent. Hikaru and Scotty were nearly finished with their assignments, and teasing the captain because he wasn't. They were all here, not everyone she loved, of course, but some of the people she loved best.

She set her hand on Spock's arm; he stopped his building and looked at her. "Let's put them together," she said. "It all works best when we are together."


	3. Chapter 3

Pavel looked skeptically at his water glass. Doctor McCoy had just stormed out after essentially ordering him to empty it, but he didn't want to. The glass was slimy with condensation; he used the edge of his gown to wipe it, and then picked it up gingerly. He stared at it doubtfully a few seconds more and then took a sip. The water tasted like metal. He gagged and set it down quickly.

The glass rocked wildly, but did not tip. He was glad not to spill. He had earlier; the alpha shift nurses had been forced to change the bed. They had been very kind about it. He couldn't imagine telling Miss O'Loughlin he had poured water all over himself. She wouldn't even try to pretend she wasn't mad. She didn't like him. He had specifically said, "Please do not put ice in my water." She hadn't listened. No one ever listened. It wasn't fair.

He closed his eyes and sighed. His skin felt sensitive and his eyes hurt, and that meant his fever was back. He had been hopeful when Dr. McCoy had let him come to the regular ward, but he was getting worse. They would just stick him back in isolation and forget him. He would be there forever. No one would care. They might not even notice. They had probably already replaced him. Hopefully with Miss Darwin, if it was x'Tan he didn't think he could stand it. It was probably x'Tan.

There were voices at the nurse's desk, he turned his head to listen, but he couldn't make out the words. That meant someone had a visitor; probably Lieutenant Thomas, the engineer that had needed surgery. Pavel had been in sick bay enough to know only visitors talked quietly at the desk. The staff never bothered to keep their voices down. He could hear everything. It could be really interesting, one of the few benefits of being sick so often. He felt like his hours spent lying in sick bay listening to nurses complain about their lovers had given him insights he would never have otherwise had.

When the ward's door opened he expected to see Lieutenant O'Loughlin, come to give him a shot or instruct him to do something painful. He sat up straighter in the bed, trying to look healthy. Maybe she would leave him alone if he seemed to be getting better. But it was Nyota that came in, and she was followed by Hikaru. Seeing them made Pavel happier than he had felt in days. The surprise made him gasp, and that made his chest hurt, and for a second he was afraid he would start coughing and scare them away. But he swallowed hard and managed to control it. He couldn't talk so he waved.

"Hey, how are you?" Hikaru called, grinning and hurrying over to the bed.

"You came to see me." Pavel finally said. Hikaru nodded and pulled up a chair. He leaned on it and studied Pavel carefully. Nyota didn't say anything, but just stood and stared at him. She looked critical, but he wasn't concerned. She made that face when she was worried.

"How do you feel?" asked Hikaru.

Pavel thought quickly. People almost never wanted the real answer to that question. They didn't want a recitation of symptoms. It was a greeting. And Pavel thought he knew what to say.

"I feel good!" he said.

"You don't look good." Hikaru said, but calmly. Pavel smiled and shrugged, pleased because he had guessed correctly and said the right thing.

Hikaru shifted the chair around and took a seat next to Pavel. He continued to look at him critically. Finally he asked, "What's up with the eyes?"

Pavel had forgotten about his eyes. He hadn't seen them, but all the nurses had mentioned them. He assumed they looked worse than they felt. He said, "I did it to myself. The illness made my eyes swell, and they itch. Apparently I rubbed them hard enough to break the blood vessels."

"Why did you do that?" Hikaru asked.

"I didn't know that I was. It was last week, when the fever was high. I don't remember."

"Jesus Pav." Hikaru said. Now he sounded concerned.

The bruises didn't hurt and Pavel didn't want his friends to worry. He shrugged and said, "I have had many black eyes. I never gave them to myself before. It makes a change."

Hikaru laughed, shook his head and said, "I brought you a present." he held out a little white sack. Pavel recognized it immediately.

"French fries!" he said. They smelled amazing; he wished he could eat them. It was a great gift. He wanted to say the little phrase they had made up, but he started to laugh, which made him cough; he couldn't say anything until he got it under control. Then of course Miss O'Loughlin came in to complain that his illness was keeping her from sitting and doing absolutely nothing all shift.

Lieutenant O'Loughlin tried to intimidate his friends into leaving. But Nyota stood up to her, she was never afraid of anyone. She sat down in a chair by the head of the bed and gave the nurse such a look that Miss O'Loughlin left without saying one more word. He wondered, as he often did, if he could learn to be more like Nyota. He doubted it. She didn't care what other people thought. He cared all the time.

They talked awhile, and to please her, he tried to eat Nyota's yogurt. Then Hikaru laid a PADD on the table and said, "Captain Kirk threw x'Tan off the bridge today."

Pavel forgot where he was and clapped. Hikaru laughed but Nyota looked at him like he was seven, and he felt badly, because she was right and it was immature, but he was so happy. She didn't understand; the lieutenant was never rude to her. And incompetent, he was incompetent too, that was the main thing of course. He wondered if it was bad that it gave him so much satisfaction to hear that Lieutenant x'Tan had almost wrecked the ship. It wasn't like he actually wanted the ship wrecked. He didn't want the ship hurt at all, but it was so great that for once he wasn't the only one bothered by Mr. x'Tan. Who was incompetent, incompetent was the important thing.

Dr. McCoy came in, and immediately started lecturing. But then so did the captain. And then Mr. Spock and Mr. Scott came too. They distracted the doctor and kept him from getting any real momentum going, so for once he only talked like a minute and it wasn't even hard to ignore him. And Mr. Scott brought a whole box of Legos. Pavel was not thrilled when Mr. Scott told the bridge crew that he killed time down in engineering building with them, but no one said anything about it, and Hikaru acted like it wasn't stupid. Then everyone started to play with them, even Mr. Spock and the doctor. It was really fun, easily the most fun he had had since, probably since they left Ertruck anyway.

Of course Dr. McCoy had to ruin everything. Pavel's eyes kept watering from the effort of looking for the right pieces. And sometimes he almost coughed and had to tense all his muscles to control it. He hoped nobody would notice, but the doctor did. Dr. McCoy kept frowning and glancing at the lights above the bed. Finally he threw his Legos in the box and stuck his hand on Pavel's forehead. He grunted and yelled, "O'Loughlin!" so loudly that Pavel dropped the little transport he'd been building. It broke.

Lieutenant O'Loughlin appeared in the doorway, looking harassed.

"Where is the hypo I ordered half an hour ago?" Dr. McCoy snapped.

"Right here," Miss O'Loughlin said, holding up a glass vial. "Things don't get synthesized automatically doctor. Every time you order something new I have to make it. That takes time."

"I don't want any more shots." Pavel said.

Dr. McCoy completely ignored him and continued to speak to Miss O'Loughlin. He said, "Maybe you should go make a couple more of these and next time your patient needs medication he won't have to wait."

O'Loughlin said, "And then when you decide to try something else next time they will be wasted. That's why we have a formulary." Pavel thought she looked right at him when she added, "It works fine for most people."

The doctor reached for the hypo and said, "Good medicine is individualized. On this ship we use only the best medical practice. As long as I am Chief Medical Officer, anyone who does not agree with that goal is free to seek employment where expectations are lower."

McCoy sounded perfectly calm when he spoke, and Pavel knew from many previous trips to sick bay that calm sounding meant dangerously angry. The wisest decision would be to stay quiet and meekly submit to anything the doctor ordered. But the fever must have interfered with his self-control because when the doctor reached toward him with the syringe he scooted away and said again, "I don't want any more shots."

He regretted it immediately, because he sounded whiney. Miss O'Loughlin rolled her eyes and left. The doctor said, "When you get your medical degree I will start considering your input. This is the viricide, you are getting it no matter what, and I added some things for your symptoms. You should be glad you aren't getting three. Now hold still."

Up against the edge of the bed and out of options, Pavel held still. All around him people smiled like he had done something cute. It was so frustrating. No one understood. It wasn't the pain from the shot he minded. But on a good day it was hard for him to keep his thoughts organized. The drugs made it impossible, his mind would race and his memories and his dreams would get confused. It would be another bad night. He closed his eyes and tried not to flinch when the syringe hissed. He sighed and settled back down into the bed.

"Why does he have so many bruises?" Nyota asked accusingly.

The doctor frowned and pulled at the shoulder of Pavel's medical gown. "The virus made his capillaries leak. It looks worse than it is." He pulled at the other side and looked at that shoulder. He continued, "It's why his eyes look so bad. And then too, he's had a lot of hypos in a week. And he was in isolation; the robots aren't as gentle as I am." Pavel snorted and pulled up his gown so his shoulders were covered. He wanted company, not the entire crew to see him naked.

"Does that hurt?" asked the doctor, moving the gown again and gently rubbing his shoulder.

"No." Pavel said, pulling away. It did hurt, but not too bad.

"Because I could order a" the doctor began.

"No." Pavel said more firmly. He was tired of being sick and he didn't want one more therapist, treatment, or procedure. He wanted to be well.

"He says things don't hurt when they do." Hikaru said. Pavel shifted in the bed and glared at the blankets. It wasn't fair; Hikaru knew how much he hated being in sick bay.

"You should prescribe him time in the therapy pools, the real ones, with the water. It might help." Hikaru finished, sounding confident, like he made suggestions to the doctor all the time.

Pavel was impressed; it was even a better gift than the French fries. On the ship it was almost impossible to get access to water for bathing. Dr. McCoy guarded the facilities in sickbay like he paid for the water himself. Although sometimes after Pavel was sick the doctor let him have a real shower. He always said something dismissive, like that Pavel needed to get the sweat out of his hair, but Pavel knew he meant it as a treat.

Pavel decided to do what he could to help. He tried to look his most pathetic and said, "Maybe I could stand that, if it would help me get back to work."

"Oh, you're worried about the ship now are you?" asked Dr. McCoy, his lips twitched.

"Yes sir, the ship." Pavel sighed.

"So young, and so noble." the captain said shaking his head. Hikaru and Mr. Scott were laughing.

"Thank you sir, it is an honor to serve." Pavel said mildly. That made the captain laugh too, and then they were all laughing, except Mr. Spock, but he didn't look uncomfortable, and that was kind of his laughing.

"I will consider it. But not tomorrow, maybe later in the week if you cooperate and start to get some strength back. You're weak as a kitten, you might drown." McCoy said.

The doctor paused like he was expecting a fight. Ordinarily Pavel would have explained that he wasn't weak and wouldn't drown, but he wanted the doctor in a good mood, so this time he kept his thoughts to himself. When Pavel said nothing the doctor continued, "Now all you people get out of here, this boy needs to sleep."

"I am not tired." Pavel said automatically, forgetting to be quiet.

"Oh, I can say with complete certainty that you will be." said Dr. McCoy, smiling at the glass vial he still held in his hand.

"I've got to go anyway; I'm going to go talk to some people about coverage for navigation. I will drop by tomorrow. Get better Pav. We miss you up there." Hikaru said. He punched Pavel in the shoulder.

Pavel thought that the punch would probably leave a bruise, which was kind of ironic. He said, "Thank you for the fries."

Mr. Scott said he would come again too and patted him on the head. Pavel didn't mind much since none of the other ensigns were around to see. Mr. Spock nodded and gravely wished him a good evening. Miss Uhura leaned close to him and murmured in Russian, "I am happy you're getting better Pasha." She surprised him by lightly kissing his forehead.

He whispered back, "Thank you for visiting, and for the gift Nyota, you are always kind to me."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. She walked out with Mr. Spock, they did not touch of course, but Pavel could tell they were walking together. She had seemed a little sentimental all evening, which was unusual for her. He wondered if it was because he looked so ill or if something else had happened, either way he was glad she was not alone. Right before she left she looked back from the door and waved, like she was sorry to go. How did she always know the right thing to do?

He had pleased her by calling her Nyota. He almost never did anymore; not out loud, he thought of her as Nyota always. He had always called her by her first name when they were at the academy, she thought he still should. He had explained that it wasn't appropriate now, they weren't students and she outranked him. She had countered that he almost always called Hikaru by his first name. And it was true, he did. But Hikaru was his closest friend. They were together a lot; it would have been ridiculous to always use his title. The rest of the crew he was careful to address professionally, even off the ship.

She did not understand. She had no way of knowing how much resentment his inclusion on the bridge crew caused. He had many ways of knowing, many, many beings had explained or shown him how much it was resented. Calling her by her first name would be like bragging, like yelling to the whole crew, 'Look at me! The amazing Nyota Uhura, she is my friend, but not yours'. He wouldn't do that, it was enough that he knew it was so.

She, of course, did not care what the rest of the crew thought, but he did. He had to for self-preservation, but he might have anyway. He wanted to be liked.

And there was one more reason, the one he would never explain to anyone. He liked her more than he should. He couldn't help it; she was so good, and so beautiful. Using her title helped him remember that they weren't equals.

The captain seemed to have slipped out without saying goodbye. Maybe he had important work to do, or maybe he forgot. Either way he was gone. And when the doctor left he had dimmed the lights in the ward, without asking Pavel, the only patient, if he wanted the lights down. Now he got to sit alone in the dark. And be sick, he had that bit of luck too. No wonder he inspired such envy.

Without his friend's voices, the quiet was oppressive. The room, so familiar in the light, was altered in the dark. Shadows blurred lines and changed shapes. Equipment cases loomed threateningly from the walls. Even the privacy curtains on the next bed looked different, like someone was behind them. In fact, they looked exactly like someone was behind them. Pavel looked away and reminded himself not to allow his imagination to create problems.

People teased him because he avoided sickbay. Everyone thought it was because of the hypos, or Dr. McCoy yelling. And truthfully, he was not crazy about either of those things. But it wasn't just those things. And at night, like the shadows, the other things got bigger.

Being left behind shouldn't bother him. After his mother died he had been sent away to school. Actually to many, many schools, each one supposedly better, but really just more demanding than the last. To him they had been interchangeable. The term began when he was yanked up the stairs of some new place by whatever aunt had been most recently tasked with getting rid of him. She would haul him into some office and force him to shake hands with who ever had shown up to inspect the little genius. While the officials fussed, the aunt would mutter something about studying hard, and leave. The headmaster's secretary would look through his papers for his name and then say, "It won't do Pasha, for auntie to think you are sad to be here, give her a smile to remember." He would stand obediently at the window, smiling and waving to his aunt's back. No one had ever looked back. He would watch till she was gone, and then follow the secretary to see his new room and meet his new class mates, the latest group of strangers who would make sure he understood he didn't belong.

He took a deep breath and told himself to stop thinking. He was no longer an unwanted child. He was an officer on a starship. But his mind continued to race, and he knew there were hours till morning, and plenty of sad things to consider. He started calculating cubic roots in his head. That sometimes helped.

The stillness was broken by the sound of laughter from the hall by the turbolift. It broke his concentration, and reminded him that life went on without him. He had known that for a long time. He remembered sitting in the cafeteria of some school. Which one? Maybe Brussels, it had been the worse. He had been sitting, alone of course, and had heard someone call to a friend. And it had occurred to him that he couldn't remember anyone speaking to him. Not that week, not that month, he couldn't remember the last time a living being had called him by name. He remembered sitting in that room filled with other people and knowing it didn't matter to anyone if he was there, or gone, or had ever been at all.

His heart pounded in his chest and his throat felt tight. His real problem with sick bay was that he couldn't leave. Usually when he felt like this he wandered the ship. He went to the labs and Hikaru let him sketch the plants for his study. Or he called Nyota. If she was alone she would make tea and let him lie on her floor, watching for rainbows and listening as she practiced Mr. Spock's harp; if he fell asleep she threw a blanket over him and let him stay all night. Sometimes he went to engineering. If Mr. Scott was working Pavel could too, and Mr. Scott would tell him stories for hours. Even when his best friends were busy, he eventually found someone. The yeomen watching vids in the rec room would make room for him on the couch, or the security guys in the gym would ask him join their game. If it was really late he sometimes took snacks to the custodial staff and listened to them, they liked company and knew lots of things no one else did. He knew everyone, and eventually he could always find someone happy to see him.

He stared into the dark, quiet room. When he had been alone it had never occurred to him that having friends would mean he would often miss them.

"Hey." said a voice behind him. Pavel looked up, more confused than frightened. The captain stood beside him, smiling until he saw Pavel's face. Then he frowned and asked, "What's wrong with you? Do you want me to get Bones? Are you sicker?"

"No, don't worry. I am glad you are here. Were you behind the curtain?" Pavel asked.

"Yeah, I had to hide somewhere. I didn't want Bones to throw me out. It was the only place I could think of. Pickings are slim around here, it's just so..." the captain frowned, looking around the ward.

"Sterile?" suggested Pavel.

"Sterile is exactly what it is. I had to take what I could get. It worked too." the captain flopped into the seat next to the bed.

"I thought you forgot." Pavel said.

"We have an agreement, right?" the captain asked. "We shook on it; I wouldn't forget something like that. The deal is, when I'm locked in here, you figure out something to keep me from being bored. When you're in, I return the favor."

"Right." Pavel agreed.

The captain continued, "I wanted to do something good, because I loved those World Cup vids you brought me last time I was in, even though they were probably illegal."

"You are a galactic hero; they should be honored to share them with you."

"And then you let me win at cribbage, which was also great."

"I brought a cribbage set, and then you beat me."

"Chekov, you corrected my addition like fifty times."

"You were over medicated; the mistakes were killing my soul."

"Anyway, it's my turn and I wanted to come up with something good, but you're just so much better at this stuff than I am."

"You brought great things this week, especially the kaleidoscope. And I always appreciate the vids you bring me."

"Yeah, but I've done that every time and Bones says not to let you watch any till your eyes get better. So I thought hard, and I am kind of proud of what I came up with. But first, we eat." He held out his left hand. He had two sticks in his fist. They were wrapped in colorful paper.

Pavel looked at them doubtfully. Captain Kirk asked, "Don't you know what these are?" Pavel shook his head. The captain laughed and said, "These are Blow Pops. They're the best. First you eat the candy and then when you finish there's bubble gum, which you chew to keep from needing to get another snack. You are going to love it. I got us both cherry. You're welcome."

Pavel opened the candy and dutifully stuck it in his mouth. It was so overwhelmingly sweet that it numbed his tongue, and then his throat, which was nice. He should have known, the captain was always right. And the captain knew more about fun than anyone else. They ate quietly for a few minutes. Pavel jumped when he heard an unexpected crack. Beside him Captain Kirk was already chewing through the candy.

"So O'Loughlin's got the duty tonight?" asked the captain. Pavel nodded. "Mean Maddie O'Loughlin. She's bad. I always get the impression she thinks I am not quite cutting it as a patient."

Pavel looked at the captain in wonder. He had assumed it was only him, but that was exactly how Miss O'Loughlin made him feel.

Captain Kirk said, "We'll have to keep our voices down."

"Don't worry. She won't check on me unless the alarms go off. I think she prefers it when I am unconscious, it means less work for her." Pavel said reflectively.

"Maybe, but it causes a lot of paperwork." said the captain. "So how do you feel?"

Pavel started to tell the captain he felt great but before he could Captain Kirk said, "And don't give me any bullshit about being fine. How are you really?"

"Really?" asked Pavel. The captain nodded. Pavel sighed and said, "Since you wish to know, I feel like someone ripped my stomach out leaving only the bloody remnants of my throat through which I must periodically cough up huge pieces of my lungs. I am so weak I spill water on myself and my muscles all hurt, and my eyes hurt, and when Dr. McCoy isn't jabbing metal into me he tells me to stop feeling sorry for myself and drink more fluids. And that is how I really feel."

"Are you sure there's nothing else?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"You are looking extra pathetic this evening. Come on, spill."

Pavel didn't want to discuss Brussels. He thought fast and said, "I know this is stupid, but I feel badly for Mr. x'Tan.

"Seriously, I thought you didn't like him?"

Pavel shrugged. He knew he should feel badly for lying, but he didn't. It was hard to maintain any privacy on the ship.

The captain looked at him skeptically and then said, "Well don't bother. It's not like I am going to have him exiled; I'll just transfer him to some ship that does milk runs. They need navigators too, but the routes are established, and the hazards are generally known. He will do record keeping and he won't get anyone killed. It's a win for all of us. Feel better?"

Pavel nodded. The captain looked at him closely. Pavel smiled and nodded again, trying to appear appeased. The captain said doubtfully, "Yeah, sure you do, because that is what you were so worried about."

Pavel continued to smile and said nothing. The captain shook his head, and said, "Fine, let's talk about Dr. McCoy's lecture this morning."

"I," Pavel paused and then admitted, "I barely listened." He had tuned out as soon as the doctor had started in on Ertruck. He almost never did listen to the doctor's rants. He wondered if he should offer the captain an excuse, maybe his illness, or that he had heard it before. He decided to say nothing. It was better if the captain did not know how much he ignored. Anyone who thought Dr. McCoy's speeches were stupid should meet Dr. Treos. Or attend a staff meeting; there was plenty to not listen to at those.

Captain Kirk continued, "But you understand Bones isn't really mad at you right? I know he sounds bad, and that you don't like it when he yells. I heard him this morning when he said you being so sick and me getting injured so often make him look incompetent. But that's just him, that's how he says he's worried. Don't let it bother you."

"Only people who do not know Dr. McCoy are afraid of him." Pavel said.

The captain didn't understand; no one did. It was sick bay Pavel hated, not the doctor. He admired Dr. McCoy. He knew most the crew considered the doctor to be unsympathetic. But Pavel did not agree. He had spent a lot of time in sick bay, and he was observant. Doctor McCoy was strict, but often very kind; he did what needed to be done, but he never hurt anyone on purpose. The more frightened the patient, the gentler the doctor became. And he worried about everyone, often he worked hours longer than he was scheduled to. He had no way of knowing of course, but Pavel thought Dr. McCoy might be something like a good father, gruff, but trustworthy and caring.

One awful night last week Pavel had awakened from a horrible nightmare in a complete panic. The doctor had come into the unit, helped Pavel sit up, reminded him to breathe, and rubbed his back with cloths dipped in tepid water. He was there most of the night, sweating in a bio suit, just to keep Pavel from hyperventilating himself into a stasis unit. None of the other doctors would have done that. Dr. Treos would have left him to the robots, which had floated nearby, prepared to jab him into unconsciousness and shove a tube down his throat.

Just today the doctor had understood, and spared Pavel having to explain how he felt about returning to isolation. And then he had agreed to consider the hot tubs. As far as Pavel was concerned, the doctor was entitled to his speeches, not necessarily entitled to have them listened to, but to make them.

The captain however, he always enjoyed listening to. Pavel forced himself to refocus on his commander.

Captain Kirk said, "Okay, as long as you understand. Now let's talk about getting the flu and the ambassador's daughter."

Pavel pulled the candy from his mouth and frowned. This was exactly how the doctor's embarrassing talk this morning had started. He said warily, "It's not like she infected me on purpose, she didn't know she was sick." He added, "Does everyone know about this?"

"Yeah, pretty much and we are all feeling a little emotional because our boy is growing up."

"I did not, I, I, I," Pavel sputtered, he finally managed to say, "Captain Kirk, please don't speak about this. Dr. McCoy already tried. I didn't talk to him, I am not going to tell you about it either."

"I don't want details, and I am certainly in no position to lecture you. I am just wondering if you think it was worth it."

Pavel cast about for a dignified way to escape the conversation. Why couldn't he be more like Nyota? She would have known how to handle this. He decided to pretend. He put his chin up and said calmly, "I would have to say that it was."

"Excellent!" said the captain. "That's what I hoped you'd say, because that means it was good, right? And you are okay?"

Pavel was not sure how to answer; he wondered if he had understood the question. He had just said he was so sick he couldn't hold his own water glass, how okay could he possibly be? But the captain continued to look at him with an expression both hopeful and worried. He couldn't disappoint the captain, so he nodded.

The captain said, "I was sure that was what you would say. I should have taken bets. Well, now that we've cleared that up we can move on. Guess what I have prepared?" He turned on his PADD and set it on his lap. Words ran across the page.

"You are going to read me a bedtime story?" Pavel asked. He couldn't help feeling disappointed. The captain didn't usually treat him like a child.

"Not a story, a novel. I figured I could come down and read to you every night until you get out. It's perfect, because you'll like it and you should be out of here before we finish so I won't have to think of anything else, and believe me; all my other ideas were lame." The captain reached behind him and ripped a pillow and blanket off the next bed.

"You are not supposed to touch the clean beds sir."

"I'm the captain. It's my ship, therefore they're my blankets. Shall I begin?"

Pavel watched the Captain Kirk arrange the pillow and wrap his legs in the blanket. Apparently he meant to stay a while. He knew the captain unquestionably had better things to do than sit in sick bay and read to an ensign. Pavel said, "If you sent me the audio you wouldn't have to take the time to come here."

The captain set the PADD down and looked at Pavel. He said, "Okay, here's the deal. I hate sick bay because I get bored, but I know that what you hate is being lonely. I figure this way, at least part of every evening you'll have company."

Pavel froze. He felt exposed. Should he deny it, or make it into a joke? Perhaps he should pretend not to understand. The captain continued to look at him expectantly. Pavel decided to reassure him. But his voice, when he spoke, came out wrong. He had meant to sound confident, but instead he sounded wistful. He said, "You don't have to do this."

"Pavel," said the captain. "I want to."

"Everything is going on and it doesn't matter that I am not there." He hated that he sounded so pathetic.

"I know buddy, sometimes I feel like I waste half my life lying in those stupid beds. But pretty much the whole ship misses you. Now that you're out of isolation you are going to have tons of visitors."

"I doubt it."

"I don't." Captain Kirk looked at Pavel, clearly expecting him to say more. When he didn't the captain turned to the PADD and squinted at the page. He said, "Okay, now this is one of my favorites."

"Fiction?" Pavel asked without much enthusiasm.

"Yes fiction. I love the way you just assume I wouldn't be reading anything serious by the way. You read way too many boring books Chekov. You definitely need more fiction in your life."

"A childhood wasted on mathematics that I could have spent studying American literature." Pavel mused.

"This is actually English, but I know you are going to like it. Are you ready?"

Pavel pulled the blanket up to his chest. It didn't really matter, the captain was right, even the worst novel would be better than brooding alone in the dark. What would Captain Kirk like? Maybe something about adventures at sea, that would fit. He shut his eyes and nodded.

The captain cleared his throat and began, "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."

An hour later McCoy walked past the nurses' desk. O'Loughlin nodded at the monitor screens and said, "He's asleep."

McCoy grunted an acknowledgement and opened the door to the ward softly. He was very pleased, because at this point sleep would do more good than anything else. He'd expected to find Chekov awake. The boy tended to get twitchy at night. Daytime he sat and watched the staff, read quietly, and tried to do as he was told. But when the lights went down, he got anxious. McCoy had attempted several times to discuss it; the patient always smiled angelically and pretended to not understand the question.

The ward was dark and quiet. McCoy was surprised to see the light from a PADD glowing by the bed. It was not like Chekov to be deliberately disobedient. He had specifically said no reading until his eyes were stronger. In the morning they would need to have a discussion about this. Just let the boy try and ignore it, it was about time he learned to listen anyway. McCoy stomped over to confiscate the PADD.

As he walked his eyes accommodated to the light. He was surprised to see two figures. Chekov was curled up like a puppy, lying at the very edge of the bed, as close as he could get to the chair next to him. And sprawled across the chair, snoring softly with his long legs draped in a stolen blanket, was the captain of the Enterprise. The PADD was on his lap. It still displayed pages from a book. Leonard picked it up gently and turned it off. He set it on the table next to Chekov's still full water glass and a drippy looking sucker.

Jim partially wakened, looked at Leonard and smiled drowsily. "Hey Bones, I'm reading to Chekov."

"I can see that captain." McCoy said.

"Don't yell, okay? He gets lonely down here by himself." Kirk said with his eyes closed. Leonard glanced at the ensign. He had one hand under his head, the other rested on the top of the visitor's chair, like he wanted to be sure it wouldn't move.

"You can go on and sleep on a bed Jim, there's plenty." Leonard whispered.

"No, I'm fine," the captain replied, turning on his side and pulling the blanket to his chin. He fell back asleep immediately.

Leonard looked at Chekov, sleeping peacefully for the first time in days. He looked back at the captain and said, "For what it's worth kid, I think you are definitely better than fine."


End file.
